


Hold me if I pull away.

by destielpasta



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi (2017), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Support, Finn provides support, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, POV Poe Dameron, Poe is just tired and overwhelmed after the last few days and needs a fucking second to breathe, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Slice of Life, Star Wars: The Last Jedi Spoilers, in this Finn and Poe kissed during the Force Awakens so they have some unfinished business, tlj - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 18:21:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13300623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/destielpasta/pseuds/destielpasta
Summary: The Millenium Falcon is full.It’s crammed full of people, having heated up to a stuffy temperature as soon as Rey had shut the doors and they departed Crait. Some people laugh and embrace around him, other sob into supporting shoulders as they realize their loved ones are gone. Dead in the old Rebel base or dead in the sky. Poe rests his head in his hands, leans over an old chess table, and breathes.~Or, Poe Dameron's trauma finally catches up to him while aboard the Millenium Falcon. Finn is there.





	Hold me if I pull away.

**Author's Note:**

> Anyone else need a dose of hurt/comfort after The Last Jedi? I did, and I will provide. Enjoy!

The Millenium Falcon is small.

Poe had heard about the old freighter a few times in his life. Once from his mother, sitting on her lap in her A-Wing fighter while she pretended to let him steer. The second time from General Organa, with a quiet shake of her head and a purse to her lips that had stuck in his mind for a time. 

The last time had been from another resistance fighter on D’Qar, the man flicking some sort of disgusting ration off his fork while detailing how  _ he saw the Millenium Falcon land you betcha _ before Poe had gone out to the landing strip to see Finn marching toward him very much alive and covered with  _ his jacket.  _

The Millenium Falcon is full. 

It’s crammed full of people, having heated up to a stuffy temperature as soon as Rey had shut the doors and they departed Crait. Some people laugh and embrace around him, other sob into supporting shoulders as they realize their loved ones are gone. Dead in the old Rebel base or dead in the sky. He rests his head in his hands, leans over an old chess table, and breathes. 

Some enterprising soul sets a cup of caf on the table. It burns his tongue when he takes too big of a gulp. 

“Careful, Commander.”

Finn sits down at the table across from him, a smile spreading across his face. 

“Haven’t you heard?” Poe says with a bite to his voice he endeavors to even out, “It’s Captain now.”

“I didn’t hear that.” Miraculously, Finn still speaks with the utmost sincerity. “I did hear that you and Rey met.”

“Oh yeah.” Poe leans back. Puts an arm over the chair. Characteristic fly-boy grin. “She sure is good in a tight spot.”

Finn blinks. “You ok?”

Poe shrugs. Just one shoulder. Looks cockier that way. 

“Sure. How is she? Rose?”

Finn frowns. “Medics say she needs more care than they can give her here. They’ve got her sedated for now until we find a place to land.”

“Poor kid.” Poe bites the inside of his cheek. He admires Rose. Admires the way she had wanted so badly to keep them all alive.

“I know.” Finn’s voice is far away but his eyes are searching. 

Poe avoids them. Finn reaches out with his hand, brushing his fingers over Poe’s knuckles.

Poe bites his lip, looking down at where Finn’s skin overlaps his own. 

It had only been one kiss. One kiss amidst alarms going off and ships taking off and no one caring what the hell he had been doing for five seconds. Five seconds of Finn’s lips warm against his in some back hallway on D’Qar before he had sent him off to plant bombs right in the middle of Starkiller Base. He made the move, but Finn was right there with him. He remembers Finn’s hand squeezing his upper arm and the way the collar of the jacket brushed against his wrist when he pressed his hand to Finn’s neck. 

Go figure, Finn remembers too. 

“I won’t ask if you’re ok, Poe–”

“Good plan.”

“But I’m here. I–  you don’t have to hide anything from me.”

Poe gets up, sliding his hand out from under Finn’s.

“Sure. I’m gonna check and see if Chewbacca needs help with anything.”

The Millenium Falcon doesn’t hold many people, but it’s holding all of the Resistance. 

He gets up. He needs to move, needs to swing his arms and lift something and place it on a high shelf. High enough to feel his muscles stretch and maybe he won’t remember the way the bodies of the too- few Resistance members had piled up in the trenches on Crait. 

Chewbacca doesn’t need his help. He and Rey have things well at hand, even though the ageing freighter makes for a bumpier ride than he’s used too. The transporter had merely trembled when the medical ship and other supporters had gone down in fire, their remains floating in open space. 

“Isn’t there anything I can do?” He says to their backs, his hands digging into his hips. 

Rey turns, her eyebrows coming together in what looks more like a sympathetic expression than a frustrated one. 

“Will you check the compressor for us? It acted up a while back.”

It’s probably a useless task, but his brain buzzes with the possibility of being useful. He grabs Chewie’s bag of tools and sets off for the hold. Maybe there would even be a bolt to tighten. 

A half-hour later he’s lying on his back, the metal slats of the grated floor digging into his back. He had looked over every corner of the compressor, which appears to be chugging along happily. He hadn’t even needed to use a wrench. 

His eyes close, and he’s back on his X-wing, gliding through chaos. Paige’s bomber explodes in orange fire, descending into the dreadnought. His first emotion had been disbelief, then anguish, and then he realized that he should be happy. The dreadnought was gone, they could escape. He had rushed back to the hangar with too few X-wings and no bombers left. 

His stomach lurches like it had when he had hurtled into the hangar, and his eyes open. There’s a bitter taste in his mouth. 

“Poe? Where are you?”

Finn’s voice echoes down into the hold, and his face pokes through the opening the neck minute. 

His eyebrows knit together, reminding him of Rey before. “Did you fall?”

Poe rolls his eyes before sitting up, grimacing as a sudden pain breaks out in his elbow. “What the–” Funny, he hadn’t remembered getting injured. 

“Do you need to see a medic?”

“They probably have better things to do.”

Now it’s Poe’s turn to roll his eyes. “Come on.”

He helps Poe up the cold ladder now that he’s suddenly realized that he’s in pain, favoring his right arm against his body once he’s back in the living area. 

There’s only a few medics left, one of them a woman not far out of her twenties who looked like she could drop dead any minute. 

“It’s a muscle strain, probably some connective tissue. I can brace it–  and I have some bacta left I think.” She rummages through her bag. 

“That’s ok,” Poe says quickly. “Just give me the brace. I’ll heal up fine.”

She looks like she wants to protest, but there are others with more serious injuries. She wraps his wrist and packs her bag to move on to the next patient. The whole ship had become a med bay, but the small area where they are is deserted except for them. 

He sits back in the booth seat, letting his eyes fall shut for a moment. He opens them quickly when he sees nothing but fire. 

“Poe Dameron, Pilot, doesn’t need bacta even though he’s injured, but will he even take a glass of water?”

Poe frowns. He had almost forgotten that Finn was sitting right next to him. 

“You want me to take bacta from people with real injuries? From Rose?”

Finn tenses his jaw, the muscles jumping. Poe had seen the look before, but never directed toward him. 

“I want you stop pretending you’re fine and–  just. I don’t know.”

“What?” 

“I want you to drop the act. You don’t have to pretend to be fine.”

“Maybe it’s not an act.”

“Sure.”

Poe sighs. “Finn, it’s not that simple.”

“Then explain it to me.”

When Poe turns to look at him, his eyes are fierce. He forgets so often that Finn was a Stormtrooper, hidden behind a mask for most of his life. He doesn’t know how to hide his expressions, how to pretend to be ok. 

He swallows, wanting to look away. He holds his gaze. 

“When I shut my eyes, I see the other transports blowing up while I looked out the window, half-stunned still and useless. I was stupid, Finn. All those people died, even though we got the dreadnought.”

Finn shakes his head. “Nothing wrong with the last couple of days catching up to you. It’s happening to everyone.”

Poe shakes his head, lowering it to rest it against his good hand. “It’s not just that. I’ve just been so–  we haven’t stopped. Not for a second. I had almost forgotten.”

“Forgotten what?”

Poe shuts his eyes again, and he see it. The rolling blackness that had surged through his mind, ripping through his memories and thoughts until he felt empty, gone, with nothing left to ground him besides pain and a soft, uncaring voice. 

“I failed. Kylo Ren got to me. I fucked up the mission.”

His heart pounds against his ribs. Finn’s arms are warm around him, and he doesn’t remember how they had gotten there. He buries his nose against his old jacket, smelling the leather and that’s what sets him off. His breath shudders through him, coming out in quiet sobs that he muffles further against Finn’s chest. 

“I finished your mission. They didn’t get anything.  _ We _ made it happen.”

“I know,” he says, shaking,  _ That’s why I pushed you into a hallway and kissed you.  _

Finn’s arms are warm around him; his hands press into his back. He hooks his chin over Poe’s shoulder and buries his face in Poe’s hair. He breathes slowly, and Poe tracks it, tries to align with it until the sobbing subsides. 

After a minute, Finn’s mouth brushes his temple, the ghost of a kiss made corporeal when he presses his lips to Poe’s cheekbone. 

Poe only has to lift his head for Finn to guide their lips together. 

The kiss is warm, almost too much so in the already hot ship. Both of Finn’s hands are tangled in his hair and Poe had never felt such a need to be  _ surrounded _ , to be held upright. His lips are dry but soft against his, and a whimper escapes his throat when Finn angles his head so that they can truly kiss. Poe shuffles closer in the booth, his good hand coming up to hold Finn’s face, a mirror image of Finn’s position. 

Finn’s hands slide down to rest again his chest and Poe deepens the kiss, opening his mouth until Finn responds against him. He wants to be close, to feel every gasp and moan that comes from Finn and let it envelope him. The pain is there, dull and throbbing, but it’s overwhelmed by Finn’s breath intermingled with his and the way his hands curl against his sides. 

Finn breaks away first, resting his forehead against Poe’s with his eyes shut. He hears footsteps quietly make their way through the hall, but he doesn’t pull away. 

“We’re going to stick together now,” Finn says.

Poe laughs softly, the corners of his mouth pulling into his first genuine smile in weeks.

“Good plan.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments are love <3


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